


En Face (Behind the Curtain of "The Blighted Night")

by DawnCooper



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Choreographer Ignis Scientia, Dancer Prompto Argentum, Director/Producer Noctis Lucis Caelum, M/M, Mentioned Sexual Content, Minor Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia-centric, Prompto has Performance Anxiety, Warnings May Change, Writer Gladiolus Amicitia, more tags/characters to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22764298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnCooper/pseuds/DawnCooper
Summary: “I’m right.”The eyeroll that punctuated that phrase made Gladio want to go to Regis and beg him to have another kid so he could kill this one.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	1. The Defeat of Fear in Two Acts

He was fuming, he knew that, and there was only one place he could go when he was angry at Prompto. Slowly, he opened the door to the small joint office and supply room space that he provided to Gladio years ago. Gladio, who was becoming more and more used to Noctis arriving at his door to complain about his best friend, was hardly torn away from the script he was writing for the director who appeared before him. 

“What’d he do now?” came the grunt that Noctis was expecting

The reply was muffled yelling from the young man's face pressed into a padded mat.

“Alright then. Scream your heart out into a pad that hasn’t been sanitized in years and probably still has old sweat caked on it. Be my guest, as if I have a choice.”

The younger of the two huffed while walking over to the rickety desk that Gladio was currently sitting at.

“If you sit on this thing it might give out-” 

“He won’t listen to me. He doesn’t want to be the lead, he told me that if I even _consider_ giving him the lead that he would find some way to get out of it.”

“Well-”

“It’s like he doesn’t know that _I_ know that he has anxiety about being in the spotlight and will work with him through all of it. He just. Doesn’t. Care.”

Gladio gave a deep sigh and stole the hair tie away from the ponytail he usually wore when writing. Winding up the elastic, he pointed it right at the gibbering kid and let loose.

“I don’t get it- Hey! What the hell was that for?” Noctis rubbed at the mark the projectile had left behind on his forehead.

“You come in here to vent and when I try to help you just treat me like I'm that sweaty ass mat over there. If you’d let me speak, that wouldn’t happen”, he chuckled.

The shorter of the two huffed again, obviously searching for something to use as payback while he thought of a response. He didn’t think Gladio would like it if he stabbed him with one of his expensive fountain pens. Instead, he stared at his hands.

“I just, I give up Gladio, I yield. He won, I lost. I don’t give a shit what he does anymore.”

“You are way overreacting about this, princess. Does everything have to be win or lose with you two? Swear those fucking games got to both of your heads.” 

He honestly doesn’t know why he comes to Gladio for this shit, guess it was just a habit he picked up when he was younger and the giant would always find some way to help. 

Needless to say, he was not being very helpful right now.

“I just want him to respect me as a director. He _is_ technically employed with the company. I’m his boss.” He crossed his arms with a petulant air.

There have been several times where Gladiolus Amicitia wanted to wrestle the pompous ass in front of him to the ground and teach him a lesson, today was just one of those days. Wrestling would cause complications though, and he kind of needs this job. Physical abuse against his ‘boss’ wasn’t allowed, but verbal abuse was in ready supply. So, he squinted at the manifestation of a temper tantrum like he used to do with old English lit before he dropped out.

“Do you listen to yourself speak? Or do you just happen to find the exact string of words that will piss someone off on accident.” 

“I’m right.” 

The eyeroll that punctuated that phrase made Gladio want to go to Regis and beg him to have another kid so he could kill this one.

“You of all people should know how stubborn Prompto can get. He’s also probably scared out of his goddamn mind because he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Noctis, you know that you’re the most important person in the world to him- besides Luna- he’s not doing this just to undermine you or spite you. If you actually talked to him- and I mean talk, not yell,” 

Gladio gave a pointed look at the scowling man.

“Then you would be able to understand that.”

Noctis opened his mouth to speak before his stagehand began to speak again,

“You’re not usually this dumb, what else is going on under that stupid haircut?”

He was expecting a glare to be thrown his way, what he wasn’t expecting was the tears that began forming in those cobalt blue eyes.

“Dad’s just… getting worse.” 

There was silence as Noctis began looking around the dim-lit room to avoid the look of pity on the writer’s face. He jumped when Gladio laid a hand over his, squeezing, when he finally turned to meet his gaze he only saw sadness. He had forgotten that his dad had basically raised both of them, even Iris.

“We’ve known that this was going to happen, it’s no reason to take it out on Prompto of all people, he don’t got thick skin.”

“I… I know that.” Noctis shuffled his feet.

“And, you can’t use your dad as an excuse anymore when I know what’s really going on.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Listen kid, the past is the past, and you gotta get over that shit.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He practically ripped his hand from Gladio’s grasp.

“Noctis, you went through physical therapy _years_ ago. You said that you couldn’t do it and that you would just help your dad out from now on. _You_ decided that for yourself.” 

He paused to do damage control, so far he had just the director into silence and his tears were all but gone.

“Prompto is the literal epitome of everything that you couldn’t be. You aren’t trying to get him to ‘break out of his shell for himself’, you’re molding him into someone that you can live through vicariously. Like you do with every other dancer that eventually disappoints you.”

He guessed that Noctis thought the best course of action at this admittance was to just blink owlishly at him.

“I don’t do that.” 

Gladio was really at the end of his wits here.

“No, you do that, I’ve watched it happen multiple times. Don’t get me wrong, some dancers take that as flattery, or they need you to help them have a breakthrough or whatever. Prom’s not gonna get that from you, he’s just gonna be sad that his best friend keeps pushing him.”

“Gladiolus. I can dance whenever the fuck I want to and I don’t need other dancers to ‘live’ as them. Plus, Prom and me look nothing alike”, he crossed his arms and shifted quietly.

“He will if he gets into the costume for the lead.”

A sigh of defeat.

“I hate how much it hurts, that every time I try to dance Ignis looks at me like I’m a glass cannon. I can’t even blame him for it, every time I try rehearsing I just leave the studio upset.”

“And then you come here to whine about it”, Gladio huffed with a small smile.

That got Noctis smiling and wondering how he had gotten so edgy over the years. It also was an important reminder for he always came to this asshole when he was in a mood.

Gladio looked at his writing, debating in his head over whether he should open his big dumb mouth again and eventually his mouth just won out.

“You should be the lead.”

“Haha. Good one.” 

He really did hate how self-defeatist Noct could be, he didn’t acknowledge that he could be as talented as the other performers he brought up from anonymity.

“I’m being serious, I wrote it for you.”

With no response, he just carried on.

“Like I said, you’ve had physical therapy, you’ve been practicing, I could help you out with some of the parts. I would want you to be the lead. And technically, since I’m the writer, I have the executive decision.”

“And when did that start being a thing?” he raised one dark eyebrow.

Gladio pretended to think, “Uhhh, since I just said so. Now you gonna bitch about it or what?” The kid would never pass on a challenge from him, it partly how he got Noctis through his recovery after the accident. 

As always, there was a playful glint and a smirk that followed.

“Director _and_ lead of the play? Hmmmm…” the younger tapped his chin in thought.

“Yeah, I can try that out, why not.” 

The writer felt such relief at those words. He really thought this would be a harder conversation with Noctis, he could be as stubborn as Prompto sometimes.

“Then Prompto will be so jelly, he’ll _have_ to agree to be the lead!”

Yep, he spoke too soon.

“Get out of my office, please, go complain to Ignis or call Luna for god’s sake.”

“Psh. You know you love me.” Noctis snorted, slapping his stagehands back and exiting the room.

Gladio mumbled a short ‘whatever’ and tried fruitlessly to focus on the words in front of him once more.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Prompto tried to focus on happy thoughts but nothing in his mind could beat out the look of complete disappointment that his best friend had given him before storming off, probably to Gladio. He swears that Noct being disappointed in him is scarier than having a situation like that happen with either of his foster parents and ain’t that a shame, because he might as well be a complete angel in their eyes. Noct loved him, and Prompto loved him too, but he was never going to live up to whatever Noctis wanted him to be. Which apparently, was the lead in every fucking production that came out of this godforsaken ballet company.

It’s not like Prompto doesn’t have someone that he also goes to when the director of the prestigious Royal Caelum Ballet Company gets on his nerves. That person just also happens to be the choreographer of the company and doesn’t really like badmouthing his boss.

He gently knocked on the door to Ignis’ studio, almost willing the other not to hear him, he hated pushing his stuff on other people, but that was almost impossible because his ears could pick up anything. The door opened and the calming piano music that permeated from the dance room at all hours was no longer muffled. Ignis stood in front of him, his hair pushed out of his face with leftover sweat, adorned with an empathetic look.

Prompto returned the look with a weak grin and a nearly invisible pair of blonde upturned eyebrows.

“Heya Iggy, doin’ anything important?”

“Well assumedly we are about to discuss something that is of some importance, so yes, you could say that I am.”

“Oof, you always shoot right through to the point, huh Igs?” he lifted up his hands to pantomime two guns going off towards the dance instructor, who narrowly dodged the gesture.

“Yes well, what has Noctis done this time?” 

“It’s not always Noctis…”

The stare that Ignis gave him bore through his very soul, suddenly the room got a lot more chilly. He sat down at the stool that was kept by the piano.

“Fine. He wants me to be the lead in the new ballet that Gladio’s writing.”

“Of course he does.”

A look of sadness crossed that usually bright face as he closed his eyes.

“Do you have any tea left in your thermos?”

“I might, if you refrain from using any colorful language while talking about our friend.” The other dancer walked towards his bag that was sat in the corner of the room.

Prompto took the opportunity to get lost in his thoughts, fiddling with the keys on the piano, harshly contrasting with the melody that was drifting from the speakers in above the full-length mirrors. He turned to look at himself. Frowning, he turned when he saw Ignis walking towards him, pouring the last dregs of his special tea into a cup with chocobos on it. 

“Perhaps this will soothe you in a way that I cannot”, the taller man held out the mug to Prompto, who wrapped both hands around it with graciously.

“As if! Even if you didn’t have this magical elixir I would still come to talk to you. Besides, there's probably some kind of Pavlov thing happening here.” 

“Yes, my dastardly plan was to provide my ‘magical elixir’ so that you would relate that relief to speaking with me and, in turn, come to me whenever you needed to get something off of your chest. Quite.” 

“I mean… it’s worked so far, can’t argue with facts Mr. Scientia.” Prompto gave a huge grin, gulping down half of the precious tea. He could swear he saw a little smile in return for his antics.

Ignis shook his head and sat down next to his troubled friend. What came next was probably the hardest. He would wait for the other man to speak more if he wanted to, such was the unspoken agreement between them. All that Ignis asked was he first give a brief explanation to what happened and he would let Prompto take as much time as he wished to talk about the rest.

Instead of just sitting there like a nonce, he reached for the phone in the pocket of his leggings, turning off the music that filtered through the space. Motioning for his companion to move over a smidge, he placed both hands on the obsidian keys, finding a melody of his own.

He knew it was a success when the blonde started laughing.

“You learned the King’s Knight theme for me?”

“Ah-ah, not just for you, it happens to be a bugger of an earworm. I found myself accidentally shifting into it during recital, which as you can imagine, was terrible for the dancers trying to keep step.”

This just caused Prompto to laugh even harder, shaking with glee.

“Oh my gods, I really wish I could’ve been there.”

He didn’t respond to that, just let the room return to the song. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the smaller man relax, glancing at the details on his cup with a tiny smile. It filled his heart with pride that he could provide something so small to Prompto, and he would love it as much as any other grandiose gesture. Unless he provided an actual chocobo chick, then the younger man would probably die from happiness.

“It feels like he doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore. Like he’s done with me because I’m- I’m not enough”, he choked out. Prompto was surprised to find he wasn’t actually having a full-on breakdown from saying the words out loud, the tea really was magical.

“Noctis would never want to stop being friends with you, he loves you to death.” 

The reassurances that Ignis provided were better than any kind of leaves he brewed. They always hit him right in the part of his brain that was filled with daemons.

“I know that, I really do. And I love him times infinity! But he’s just so pushy with me being a lead when i’ve told him multiple times that I like being in the background and performing as a group with the other dancers. Hell Igs, being a snowflake for the Nutcracker is my favorite role! He knows all of this! But every single time he and his dad-”

A slight wince from Ignis.

“- pick out a new production, he always comes to me first! And every single time, I pray to every single higher power out there that I'm not going to have to say no this time. That I'm not going to have to explain myself to my best friend again. That I won’t have to see Noctis’ stupid, hopeful face shatter and then him try to console himself while he runs off to Gladio’s office so that he can complain about me.”

“Do you care that he talks about you to Gladio?” 

“That’s what stood out to you? No, Ignis, I don’t care. He can have Gladio as long as I can have you. But if he would actually listen when I fucking-”, Prompto took his hands off of his mug to run them through his hair, his leg bounced rapidly. 

Two hands met his and gingerly took them from his hair to lay at his sides. The choreographer looked at him carefully and fixed his hair back into it’s usual coif, ending his gestures by laying one hand on his vibrating knee.

“I’m sorry for swearing”, the blonde was still shaking and it took everything Ignis had to not go to Noctis and demand that he apologize. He didn’t know just how much his opinion affected the man before him, but that was not a conversation for him to have.

“I only dislike you talking bad of Noctis, or even Gladio, as I fear you will come to regret what you’ve said in later moments.”

Those sparkling blue eyes turned to him, the violet ring surrounding his pupils stood out against unshed tears. 

“You really think of everything, huh? I can’t believe how much goes on in that big brain ‘o yours Igster.” He laughed, poking the worry line forming between the brunette man's sculpted brows.

“It is the leading theory as to why my forehead is so bloody huge.” 

“Pfft. You ain’t got nothing on me man, under all these bangs is a monster.”

“While I do agree, I don’t think your monstrous qualities can be attributed to the size of your head.” 

Prompto scoffed and swept his bangs away from their natural resting place above his eyes.

“See! I can’t even clip it back during practice because it looks so bad, it makes having to stare at myself in the mirror so much worse.”

Ignis frowned as he brought a hand to his chin, observing the freckles that permeated the others visage while he thought. 

“I still believe that my hairline is farther back than yours, as it happens with age, so I definitely win this contest” the smirk that followed made it the Prompto’s turn to frown.

A lightbulb went off in Prompto's brain, with little thought he turned Ignis’ head towards the mirror and pressed the side of his face against the brunette’s.

“Dammit!”

He started grumbling at the sight of the others forehead being taller than his but as he turned his attention slightly downward he was stopped by the slight blush against those tan cheeks.

“Shit, sorry dude! I sometimes just do things without thinking and like-”

“It’s alright Prompto, I was merely startled, it’s not everyday that I have a live chocobo attempt to nuzzle me.”

The blush was gone and replaced with that dumb self-satisfied smirk again, he really wishes Gladio had never made that comparison. Guess it’s better than being a Behemoth, ha.

“You should only be so lucky! Chocobo’s are a gift to the world!”

Light laughter twinkled in ears that started to turn red from embarrassment.

“This is technically harassment, I could just sue the whole company for mistreatment or something.”

“And who is stealing whose tea almost every day?”

Every day? Was it really getting that bad between him and Noct?

Ignis noticed the hesitation toward the joke, already beginning an explanation.

“Of course it hasn’t been every day, but-”

“If it’s enough for you to make a comment on it… then it’s gotten that bad.”

One of the pianists’ hands reached out for his shoulder, grounding him with a light touch.

“I can’t claim to understand Noctis, I only met him after the accident, but I do believe that his desires are based on what is best for you and your future career.”

A stuttering sigh left bitten lips.

“That’s why it _hurts_ me so much Ignis. I know that he’s just trying to take care of me in his own way but I don’t want to be like Luna. I don’t wanna be the 'New Prince of Ballet’ or anything, that’s too much pressure. I’d get crushed.”

Those last words resonated inside of Ignis, his formative years were spent worrying as Prompto did. However, instead of trying to work with those fears his family simply pushed him to be the best that he could be. He had little to no support until Regis offered a contract to both him and Lunafreya. The latter had rejected it, wanting to be a free spirit and dance among every stage. He had never had a decision up until the contract was laid in front of him. Fourteen and fresh off of performing _the Nutcracker_ under the stars of Altissia. His manager had warned him of the stresses of moving while his uncle was worried about the pay. 

Regis had remained quiet, his gaze knowing and filled with care. A look he often gave to Noctis and Gladio. Needless to say, he accepted the damn contract like a lifeline, his uncle followed the money while his manager followed the acclaim.

A realization hit Ignis then, Prompto would not be crushed, he would _flourish_. He had support from all of his friends but because Noctis kept pushing he could only see the stress of failing to meet his expectations. He tightened his grasp on the blondes shoulder to grab his attention.

“Prompto, I do not wish to cause you any anxiety, neither would any of your friends. We will support you through anything. It is clear to me now that while his words may have indescribable weight, they only wish to hold you up, not pull you down.” He gave a gentle smile for added measure, viewing the cogs work in the dancers mind.

“So… he just, what, thought that bullying me into the lead was a good idea?” 

Ignis grimaced, not quite the thought he had in mind but he could still save this.

“Do you remember when the both of you were in the Academy, Noctis made you work out with Gladio for weeks so that you would be able to lift your partner? I believe that our current situation can be related to that past experience. He often accosts you to do things because it has always worked for him. Now that an immovable wall has met an unstoppable object, he will just keep trying to force it.”

After that explanation it seemed like the other man was starting to understand, the frown becoming deeper.

“He’s such a dumbass, we’re dumbasses”, he grumbled and stood from his seat, leaving Ignis’ hand behind.

“Do tell him that I agree with you.”

Prompto lifted a hand as a farewell, destination in mind.


	2. Mismatch Rematch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto and Noctis air out some dirty laundry. In more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of some highkey Promnis in this chapter, slight mentions of GladNoct with Noctis being oblivious.

He wasn’t expecting Noctis to be right outside of the studio but it worked out in his favor. Noct didn’t even look mad anymore, which was a good sign.

“Hey, can we talk?” Prompto held his best friend's gaze, trying to use the telepathy that Regis always joked about.

Noctis pretended to mull it over it for a second before a shit-eating grin broke through.

“As long as you’re ready to be the star of the show.” Jazz hands.

Prompto let loose a suffering sigh, crossing his arms.

“That’s what I wanna talk about. And by that I mean I talk, you listen, capiche?”

Noctis motioned his lips getting zipped up, locking them up and throwing away the key for good measure.

“Good. Your office cool?”

Considering that the director couldn’t speak, he just nodded.

Smiling, the blonde started walking with his friend to the largest office in the building, located in the very back. It was once Regis’ office, but after he was hospitalized he let Noct inherit it along with most of the company. Noctis didn’t spend a lot of time in there, he barely moved any of his stuff from his old office, not wanting to disturb his dads things. Though Prompto did notice him going in and out on occasion, probably for the account books and other random shit.

Judging from the surprised look on his face when they passed the black door leading to the space he often occupied, Noct hadn’t thought of it as ‘his office’ yet. Whelp, no stopping now, the Prompto train only goes one way and doesn’t stop for mix-ups. Choo choo.

As he went to turn the doorknob, the freckled man turned to Noctis for a sign of affirmation, he didn’t want to upset his friend on accident. As a result, the other scoffed, eyes pointedly going from Prompto to where his hand was hesitating.

The entrance creaked open, a thick layer of dust hitting them both. 

“Dude, when’s the last time you were in here? It’s musty as hell.” The blonde coughed out, frantically fanning his arms to ventilate some of the stale air while Noctis flipped the lightswitch.

The director glared at him and shrugged.

“You know you can speak, right? Just not when we get to the important stuff.”

Another shrug. Sometimes Noctis got way too into a role.

“Alright, suit yourself.” 

Prompto led them to the ancient writing desk that supposedly was the same one that Tchaikovsky used, though its value depreciated drastically when little Noct and slightly bigger Gladio carved their initials into it. Clarus was ready to bring Ifrit’s hellfire down on his son but Regis just took the pencil from them and carved their initials on it, right next to their sons. Gladio had said that his dad was so dumbfounded, he just walked straight out of the room without a word, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be punishing his son.

Of course Iris found out and needed to leave her mark too, then when Noctis’ mom died, Regis guided his sons hand to etch her name. The name of Clarus’ wife followed soon after. Then after it seemed like there would be no new family, his dad was too stubborn to let the tradition die. He let all the dancers, new and old, leave a permanent reminder of their time in his care. After signing his contract, Prompto was so nervous about messing it up that his hands shook hard enough to keep dropping the pen. He let Ignis do it in his stead, the letters resting beside those that the choreographer had left years before.

The faded leather chairs were comfortable, but definitely didn’t match Noct’s style. He left his friend the seat next to his, neither wanting to sit in the place that Regis used to occupy.

“So, after talking to Ignis about it, I think I understand where you’ve been coming from with this whole thing.”

He’s never seen Noctis look so relieved in his life, even after their last exams were over.

“I’m an idiot, you’re an idiot, what’s new. You just wanted to help, and I got that, but ignoring me when I said no and then throwing a fit over it probably wasn’t your best move.”

Prompto motioned for Noctis to speak.

“I didn’t mean to steamroll over you or your decisions. I guess because we were best bros I thought you would just take my advice.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Noct, buddy, it wasn’t ‘advice’. It was ‘you have to do this because I said so’. Don’t forget that I’m your friend first, employee second.”

For what it was worth, Noctis did look guilty, but he was hoping he would be a little apologetic.

“What did you end up talking to Ignis about?” Nice segway.

“Basically this, he agrees with me that we’re both dumbasses.”

He snorted. “Not surprised.”

“I think that Iggy secretly does want me to be in the spotlight though, I’m sure Gladio’s opinion is similar with how often you vent to him about it.”

“Well…”

“What, he doesn’t actually want me to be the lead? Finally! Someone on my side!”

“He implied that he wanted me to be the lead instead. Well, he just straight up said it. Gladio doesn’t do implications unless it’s gross.”

Okay, that silenced the victory chimes that started to ring out in Prompto’s head.

“Uhhh, what?”

“Apparently he always imagined me as the main character.” 

“But you always told me you couldn’t dance. Whenever we had classes in school they let you off because you were going to be a director.” The blonde pouted, remembering the funny faces Noctis would purposely make on the sidelines at practice so that he would get yelled at for not maintaining his composure.

“I can’t, it’s too much stress on my injury. Gladio thinks that I can be healed through ‘brotherly love’, I guess.” Noctis added the appropriate air-quotes for extra flair.

Well, Prompto wasn’t sure that love was entirely brotherly but he wasn’t going to give those two cents. One revelation at a time.

“Did you let him down easy?”

“It gave me the ingenious idea of making you jealous but, thanks to Specs, my master plan was ruined before it started.”

“Your big plan was to make me jelly? I never knew your brain was so big, must be hiding under all that hair.” 

“I know it  _ probably _ wouldn’t have worked but you can’t blame me for trying. I would’ve tried anything if it got you to say yes.”

Noct’s dedication to Prompto set itself firmly between them.

“I guess not.”

They let the dust settle for a moment. 

“If-” Prompto began, blue eyes meeting each other.

“If you’re serious about supporting me through everything, then I want to do it.”

Noctis’ eyebrows almost flew off of his face as he registered what he said.

“Are you like, punking me? I feel like Dino is going to burst through the door with a camera at any second.” He side-eyed the entrance to the room anxiously for additional effect.

The blonde supplied an unamused frown for the dramatics.

“I’m trying to be serious here, dumbass. You’re ruining the moment.”

“Prompto. When am I  _ not  _ there for you? Do you remember how many tries it took you to do a grand jeté? You got so close every time but eventually you got fed up and wanted to quit.”

“You’d pat me on the back and tell me ‘You’ll get there if you keep working towards it, every mistake is a new lesson’. Which I’m pretty sure you stole from a Kupinterest post.”

Noctis waved him off, “Anyways, the point is, I’m always in your corner Prom. Being in your corner is basically my home.”

A sly grin made its way onto Prompto's face.

“It’s way better than the closet,” the blonde wiggled his eyebrows, causing them both to break into a fit of laughter.

They shared a quick cooldown to catch their breath, Noctis interrupting it with a groan.

“Are we done being emotional? There's too much bromance in here, I feel sick.”

“The reason you feel sick is because of all the damn dust in the air dude! You gotta clean this place up.”

Prompto went up to one of the bookshelves that rested against the wall, he took his finger and swiped it along the surface, shoving it at Noct to prove his point.

Looking around at the rest of the room, Noctis saw how dirty it had become, how he had  _ let it _ become. The denial about his dad prevented him from touching any of his stuff, holding out in hopes he would be able to come back to work. Now he had to come to terms with the fact that the only places Regis would frequent were in their house or a wheelchair.

“Hey, uh, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.” Prompto reached out, trying to recover Noctis from his internal battles.

He snapped out of his spaced out place, turning towards his best friend.

“You’re always right, y’know that? Don’t know why I even try to think when I've got you around.” 

Prompto retracted his arm while squinting at the director. “You’re right, but where's this coming from?”

“I gotta fix this place back up and not just to make it my office. I can bring all these old photos and trinkets back to the house and spruce up Dad’s room.”

The blonde beamed at his enthusiasm, it was nice to see Noct start rolling with the punches instead of getting stuck in one place.

“That’s a super good idea dude! But you know if we start cleaning without Ignis then he might kill us, we almost made mustard gas that one time. Oh! And we can get Gladio to help with moving furniture and boxes.”

“I’ll text them to come over then later we can Postmoogle some food over. I’m gonna go raid the janitors’ closet.”

“‘Kay, I’ll start taking all this stuff off the shelves.”

Noctis gave him a small salute, and went out into the hallway.

They really were a force of nature when they were on the same page.

The atmosphere got kind of creepy when Noctis left, so Prompto went on the hunt for some kind of stereo, though he didn’t know how ‘with the times’ Regis was. Stashed away in one of the corners was a record player, a vinyl already laid under the needle. Prompto fiddled with the dials until it turned on, playing faint notes. He recognized the melody, but couldn’t pinpoint where it was from. The song was definitely modern though, it must have been a gift from Noctis. A last ditch effort to make his dad feel cool.

With that settled, Prompto went back to his original task. He gave the shelf before him a once over, eyes flicking to different depictions of dancers at some point in their performances. It was bittersweet noticing that Regis even framed some of the photos he had taken.

Removing them from their home with great care, he set the images face down on the desk behind him. The productions flashed through his mind as the pictures were stacked, Romeo and Juliet, Sleeping Beauty, Anna Karenina, and much more. There were multiple photos of each, different companies and different dancers. 

A familiar face made Prompto pause, a picture of Luna as the Sugar Plum Princess. His gaze drifted to the arms supporting her, belonging to a beautiful Sugar Plum Prince. His face shining brighter than the lights, a magnificent smile and a loving look for the girl he held to his chest. Prompto couldn’t stop looking at it, perplexed by the identity of the dancer.

Ignis made his entrance, looking vaguely uncomfortable

That was when it clicked.

The photo started to slip from his hands, fumbling to prevent it from falling to the floor, the taller man crossing the distance between them in order to do the same. Prompto bent over Ignis’ crouched form, dodging a sure blow to the nose when the other shot up to full height.

Two pairs of hands rested on the depiction of the choreographer in his princely attire. Prompto’s face decided that the room was too cold.

“Ignis! You uh- you surprised me there, haha.”

“My apologies- Noctis sent a message about some sort of cleaning emergency, I presumed that some sort of accident had occurred.”

The blonde wanted to sneak the object they were both latched onto away from Ignis, embarrassed that he had been caught snooping, but he had an unrelenting grip.

“Might I take a closer look at this? I haven’t seen this photograph in ages.”

Instead of answering, Prompto reluctantly surrendered his hold on the frame.

Pausing to adjust his glasses, meticulous seafoam eyes washed over the image. Fingertips spread along the glass as if to touch the lingering memory. The sharp angles of Ignis’ face became harder to read, guarded emotions that willed themselves to stay hidden as they rose to cognizance. Discomfort had made his mouth taut and his stance tense.

Prompto had an urge to make Ignis feel better. He forced the thoughts of the handsome visage away, hoping that would also rid him of the blush drawing a path down his neck.

“That’s you and Luna right? You look a lot different.”

Smooth, Prompto. Very smooth.

“Not that different is bad! You look good now too!”

The gods were sparing him today because Ignis was still stuck in a trance. He came back to himself a moment later when the words finally hit him.

“I’m very sorry, were you saying something?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, just my mouth running so that the room wasn’t quiet.”

At least his original goal of bringing him out of it worked.

“I believe I heard an inflection which signifies a question, but I’m afraid I was rather out of it. Did you have an inquiry?”

Spoke too soon about the gods, fickle assholes.

“Oh! I was just asking if that was you and Luna in the picture. I recognize her but, um, I guess the lighting makes you look like someone else.”

It was better than whatever word jumble came out of his mouth the first time. The choreographer produced a faint smile for his trouble.

“I do resemble someone unlike myself, don’t I? I suppose I also have youth going for me, this photo was taken about… 8 years ago if I’m correct.”

So if Ignis was 26 right now, that would mean that the model Prompto had the honor of seeing was 18. The gods may have forsaken him but at least he wasn’t going to jail. He was suddenly happy that he didn’t befriend Noctis until after he grew out of his awkward boner phase. Though currently it was threatening to make a return appearance.

“Was this after Regis recruited you and Luna?” Prompto thanked his mouth for continuing the conversation.

“Yes, Director Caelum planned to hire us both after our first performance of  _ The Nutcracker _ . This was taken at the revival event he hosted years later. After the show he’d gifted the prop crown to me as, in his opinion, my likeness was the closest to the character he’d ever seen.”

Prompto knew Regis had good taste. “Woah.. that’s really nice of ol’ Reggie. Do you still have it around?”

Ignis stood still, looking back to the picture. Gaze bored into the crown sitting atop his head.

“I do indeed. It is on a shelf in my home, along with my awards and accolades.”

Melancholy donned his features, Prompto didn’t like it one bit.

“You never really talk about your career as a dancer, excluding when Gladio got you  _ super  _ drunk when Noct and me graduated.”

His attention was drawn back from the photograph once more, locking onto the blonde.

“The past stays in the past it seems. Until the time comes that you must take it down or clean what remains.” 

Prompto shivered, unsure that he should continue with this line of questioning.

“As you mentioned Noctis I hope it isn’t too early to presume that you two have found a common ground?”

It was good that one of them knew how to navigate a conversation.

“We cleared everything up for the most part. He got all mushy and pledged his undying assistance to me and I agreed to taking the part. I guess that means you’ll be seeing me more often.”

“Trading out our discussions for dancing lessons, I believe I’ll enjoy that as well.” 

The choreographer's wistful smile left, his expression painfully neutral.

“There is one fear that plagues me, however.”

Gulp. “What’s that?”

“My tea reserves are likely to suffer.”

Prompto gave him a swift punch to the bicep, directing his thoughts away from the firmness underneath Ignis’ shirt. He didn’t even fake a flinch.

“Very funny. Instead of joking, maybe you should be cleaning.”

Prompto put forth his best ‘serious-mode’ face, but it didn’t look like Ignis bought it. Amusement danced in his eyes.

Instead he analyzed the room around him, a hand positioned under his jaw. Prompto followed his ministrations to prevent himself from staring too long.

Ignis tapped his chin a few times, not that Prompto was counting, until a plan of action formed. 

“It would be best if we could procure some cardboard boxes for storage purposes, I’ll relay this to Gladiolus before he makes his trek from the utility room. With any luck, he won’t have come too far.”

“Good idea, Igster.” How did he never notice the beauty marks- moles before? His face held almost as many imperfections as Promptos, they suited his tan complexion.

“There's a distinct lack of angst in the room, where might he be?”

Prompto smiled at the thought of Noctis in his ‘emo’ prime, the mysterious bruises that he got from moshing pawned off as roughhousing with Gladio.

“He’s on a great crusade in the janitor's closet, either passed out from all the smells or waiting for Mr. Muscles to help him carry everything.”

Ignis lowered the picture to rest on the desk, next to the stack that Prompto had started earlier. 

“No harm in checking in on him, we’ll be back shortly.”

“Go ahead, I'll just be here, with all the dust mites.”

He faked a sneeze.

“I’m sure you can defend yourself from such foul creatures.”

Ignis gave him a smirk. Prompto felt the temperature rise, staying that way when the other man left the room.

He listened for the footsteps to get far enough away that he could slink over to Ignis’ previous space at the front of the desk.

Pulling out his phone, he raised his camera to capture a copy of the full picture. He was going to send it to Luna so that she could gush over the good old days, of course.

Oh what the hell.

He zoomed in directly on Ignis and took another.

Forgiveness instead of permission, right?

When Gladio charged in with sheets of cardboard under both arms, Ignis and Noctis right behind him wielding feather dusters and gloves, Prompto looked the image of innocence as he leaned on the once-full bookshelf.


End file.
